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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23364823">It's not funny to die during a party</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetkenny/pseuds/Sweetkenny'>Sweetkenny</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>It Must Be Hate [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>South Park</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Affectionate Insults, Ambiguous Relationships, Attempt at Humor, Bathroom Sex, Blades, Blood, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Fights, Fluff, Graphic Violence, Guns, Humor, Kyman - Freeform, Lies, M/M, Mitch conner is back bitches, Multi, Mystery, New York, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Humor, Slow Burn, Slurs, Smut, Super-hero, The Coon - Freeform, University, blowjob, double identity, im having fun writing this lol, lawyer intern Kyle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:34:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23364823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetkenny/pseuds/Sweetkenny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle is really happy to work as an intern in one of the most famous laywer cabinet in New York City. When his colleagues ask him to go to a party with them, not everything goes as planned. Oh, and he also thinks this stranger wearing a mask is handsome. </p><p>Or when Kyle Broflovski's love life became totally fucked up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman, Kyle Broflovski/The Coon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>It Must Be Hate [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680490</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Masked Avenger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As surprising as it can be, this multiple chapters story is the sequel of "Five Times Things Got Weird". You can also read it without reading the previous story. And you can also not read this one, if the ending of FTTGW was enough for you. Anyway, as I always say, I'm french, i'm sorry if there are mistakes found in the chapters. </p><p>The series is called "It Must Be Hate". </p><p>Enjoy !</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Broflovksi, I need you to finish this contract ASAP. You’re not leaving the office until you’re done!’ The stern voice of the lawyer who supervised him, Mr. Feinstein, had been heard throughout Kyle’s office.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The intern was clearly pissed off by the way he has spoken to him with that tone, but the redhead just pursed his lips and nod his head affirmatively without saying a word. Mr. Feinstein left as soon as he arrived.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">July, 2020. NYC. <em>Dewey &amp; Leboeuf Cabinet</em>.4pm </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle returned to his phone call, setting the handset against his ear again.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘I’m sorry, could you repeat please ? Mh… Yes… Well, Mr. Wallace only confirmed the Monday meeting this morning, it may explain why you didn’t heard from him sooner. Yes… Yes, of course. I will forward your message. Have a good day.’ </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">When he made sure that he had hung up, Kyle sighed loudly. He was doing an internship in one of the most prestigious Lawyer Cabinet in New York City. Inevitably, his father had helped him get this opportunity. But no one could deny either that Kyle Broflovski was a brilliant student in his field. Feinstein was just an old stupid man who pissed off everyone. Especially the interns. Kyle had only one month left in the cabinet. So he decided to bite the bullet and agree to be manhandled. After all, he was so close to reach his goal. And so many other students would have gladly taken his place. He felt lucky to be where he was right now.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His life had changed particularly since leaving South Park. He was a 23-year-old student from Boulder University. He shared a room with his best friend, Stan. And his early years as an undergraduate were incredible, especially thanks to the presence of his childhood friends. Sometimes he remembered certain memories and smiled stupidly to himself. Like, those evenings when they entered the university’s aquatic center illegally and drank beers while swimming in the pool. One time, Butters had almost drowned. Kenny wanted to proceed to a mouth-to-mouth and Butters had spit in his face all the water stuck in his airways. <em>Oh, good old days</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The door opened again with a loud noise. Kyle looked over with wide eyes and his shoulders relaxed when he saw that it was not Feinstein. He let himself go on his leather desk chair, which by the way, was very comfortable. It probably cost more than his rent.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Instead, David, Dean and Pete entered the intern's office, they smirked with nonchalant steps, as usual.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘You work way too much Broflovski. You're going to have white hair on your head before you reach your thirties.’ David spoke, hands in his chinos pants pockets, allowing himself to sit on the edge of Kyle's desk. The latter gave him a weak smile.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘My place here is not as secure as yours, unfortunately.’ The redhead replied, straightening the sleeves of his white shirt.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The young man who had just spoken was none other than the son of the lawyer who supervised the young student. Dean was Feinstein's nephew. Pete? He was just the two boys' best friend. He was a total asshole, but Kyle had guessed that he had probably been helped by his friends to get a job here.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘What are you working on?’ Dean asked coming to Kyle's side, leaning over the desk to take a look at the pile of paper. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle took the file and handed it to Dean. ’The fucking takeover contract between Skype and Silver Lake Partners. I think my brain is going to burn.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Pete looked at Dean, his eyes lit up as if he had a bright idea. ‘Didn't you work on a similar contract?’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Mh?’ Dean looked up at Pete. ‘Oh yeah, totally.’ He turned his gaze to Kyle again. ‘I can make a copy secretly, it might help you.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle raised an eyebrow in awe. ‘Seriously? Oh my God- I... I don't know how to thank you.’ He looked at the three of them, desperately. ‘I was expecting a sleepless night.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Oh, you’ll probably have a sleepless night.’ Dean laughed as he put his hand on the redhead’s shoulder. The latter watched them, eyes full of misunderstanding.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Because you're gonna party with us tonight.’ David went on, leaning slightly across the desk.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Dude, I can’t.’ He replied categorically.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The young man rolled his eyes. ’You need to relax. Nothing will happen to you. If there is any problem, I will talk to my father about it. Don’t worry.'</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘We are partying with the Wall Street interns. These guys know how to party, believe me. You do not want to miss that.’ Pete insisted as if that was the final argument to convince Kyle.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle really didn't come to New York City to have fun. On the other hand, for several months he had managed to make no mistakes. Everything was going on perfectly well. His look, his clothes, his attitude, the work and efforts he provided. He had been flawless. He would be mad at himself forever if he would screw up such an opportunity.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">On the other hand… He didn't want to upset Feinstein's son. He was so sympathetic towards him, and actually helped him a lot. Especially since he had quickly judged the three of them the first days of his arrival. Well, they looked like selfish dickheads who graduated from Ivy League colleges only thanks to their parents' money. That may have been true, frankly. But at least they were generous with Kyle. The three pairs of eyes stared at him insistently, waiting for an immediate answer. He found himself biting his lip. It was true that he needed to chill out…</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Alright…’ </span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">‘YES!’</span> <span class="s1">The three boys shouted in unison with big smiles.</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘You're definitely not ready.’ Dean assured him as he crossed the room to reach the door.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Get ready to live the best night of your entire life.’ Pete said in turn as the three boys walked out of the office, feeling victorious for convincing such a serious intern to party with them.</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Indeed, Kyle wasn’t ready at all for tonight’s events. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"><em>The Press Lounge</em>. 2am</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">On the rooftop of a famous hotel of the 11th Avenue, Kyle was sipping a glass of Sex On The Beach, stting with a dozen people on sofas. The weather was very good. He felt even slightly warm in his white Gucci shirt. This one was decorated a red snake on the collar. Fortunately, his cocktail was refreshing.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What surprised the young man very much was that there were as many young people as old people who indulged in debauchery. Some were inside, looking at strippers dancing for them. Others chatted with serious looks around cocktail glasses. The most surprising thing for Kyle was that there were several bodyguards on the rooftop, and he could catch a glimpse of a gun under the jacket of one of them. It was weird. But no one seemed to care. So Kyle was also trying to appear nonchalant. After all, he had never been to such parties where only people from a certain elite were allowed. Maybe it was a normal thing.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘The guy you’re looking at is part of the Saudi royal family. He is chatting with Mr. Conaway, an investor, and his lawyer, who you must have seen in the hallways of the Cabinet. ’ </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle felt his face warm when he heard David speak directly into his ear. He wasn’t that close to his face, but they were close enough so no one else could hear the conversation. His gaze shifted from David and he looked at Conaway. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘You see the guys on the right, standing behind the bay window?’ David continued, while Kyle looked around for the men he was talking about. ‘The one that wears sunglasses is Leonardo Rizzuto.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle looked him up and down. The man seemed to be young. He was probably in his thirties. Long brown hair plated back and a dark, tailored checkered suit. Around twenty people were standing around him, and obviously he was monopolizing speech. He had no fucking idea who this guy could be. But he stopped drinking his cocktail and placed it against his thigh. He was sure that what David was about to tell him would be interesting.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘He's the head of a very large Italian-Canadian mafia. He has a wealth of assets in many New York companies. Since a massacre took place between several of the city's historic gang chiefs, the underworld has had no leaders anymore. The goons are no longer organized. And he's here to fill the vacancy.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Okay. </em>Kyle was clearly feeling uncomfortable for attending this party. He could shit in his pants right now. His Adam's apple lifted as he looked away from Leonardo, afraid that the mafia chief might catch him staring at him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘What I want you to understand Broflovski…’ David shifted in his seat to get closer. ‘<em>Dewey &amp; Leboeuf</em> aren't just there to help Disney sell crappy Marvel movies to Netflix.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle dared to look David in the eyes, with a pale face. ‘You- You mean… ?’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘A contract is not written to help both parties to remain legal. A contract is written to help one company do bad things and force the other company to accept. ’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The atmosphere was definitely getting heavier. Unconsciously, he unbuttoned the collar of his shirt which he now found too tight around his neck. David drew back, a smirk on his lips as he joined the group conversation again, as if nothing had happened. Feinstein Jr had just admitted to him that his father's office was making dirty money. Helping criminals. And the worst part about it was that it didn't affect David in the least. These people were untouchable. They could do the worst things, and they would always get away with it. That's what David wanted to make clear.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘WHO WANTS SOME CHAMPAGNE?’ Pete shouted, coming toward the sofas on which the different interns were seated with a huge bottle of Moët, which he was shaking strongly in his hands. The young people applauded David and Dean’s friend while the latter opened the champagne and placed the bottle at his crotch to imitate a penis ejaculating, watering some people by his side. Kyle watched the scene in disbelief, now convinced that he really was out of place here.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>The fuck am I doing here ? </em>If only he could have finished his internship without being aware of these shenanigans. Absently, he refused the glass of champagne that was handed to him, lost in his thoughts. It was only when the music completely died out that he raised his head, frowning. However, no one seemed to care. Everyone was still chatting, and people surely didn't even notice.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His gaze stopped at two waitresses who were muttering to each other gravely. They looked around and rushed back to the club, Kyle’s eyes following them.</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Something wasn’t right</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A young man whom Kyle had never seen before, but knew his name was Samuel, suddenly stood up. ‘Fuck, why is there no music? I'm gonna ask these motherfuckers what's going on.’ He said, stepping over the low table.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle's reflex was to follow Samuel inside the club, where a large number of people still were. He felt his stomach turn at the thought that he was now in the same room as members of a powerful mafia. He went towards the toilet. They were surprisingly empty and very clean. He locked himself in one of the cabins, preferring the security of a closed door. His goal was to empty his bladder, and get out of there as quickly as possible. Tomorrow, he would explain to David that he had gotten a diarrhea or something like that. </span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Before he could flush the toilet, he heard people panicking and screams rising in the club as well as the noise of people running around and furniture falling on the floor. Kyle stiffened, having absolutely no idea what to do. Was he safer in this toilet cubicle or did he have to get out? </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">After a few minutes, the screams had still not subsided. Kyle sneaked out of the cabin. He was always alone in the toilet. His breathing was heavy. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack. But he called on all his strength to remain stoic. It was only after ten minutes that he dared to put his head through the door. The club was empty. Furniture upside down. No waiter was at the bar anymore. A thick mist was in the air. And soon Kyle's eyes started to burn.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Fuck</em>. His windpipe stung him enormously. He got down on all fours, restraining himself from coughing, but his chest trembled with the severe cough that was taking him. He tried as best he could to breathe. But each breath brought him a burn in the chest. He couldn't see much because of his watery eyes, but he managed to get to the door that led to the hotel stairs. However, this was only false hope. When he tried to push the door, it was impossible for him to open it. He got on his knees and tried to push open the huge door with all his might, but it was as if someone had blocked it from the outside. Kyle was now crying for real. His cough became more violent and he coughed loudly against his elbow. An anguish crossed him. He was sure he would die here alone. He heard male voices on the rooftop. He didn’t want to face these dangerous people. But the only solution was to cross the rooftop to reach the external staircases which ran along the facade of the hotel. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The redhead got back on all fours and tried to move between the pieces of furniture on the ground so as not to be seen. He finally found himself on the rooftop, hidden behind the back of an armchair, thinking of the path he could take. Obviously, there were about fifteen men present. The mist had dissipated outside, and therefore affected him much less. He pursed his lips tightly so as not to cough out loud. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘I would never thought the FBI would dare to come to my territory.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle guessed that the person speaking was probably Leonardo Rizzuto.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Put down your weapon Rizzuto. We have reinforcements. You’re not gonna make it tonight. ’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle's heart missed a beat. For an instant, he momentarily lost consciousness and no longer heard the conversation. He had just realized that the people were all armed, and that it would probably end in a Russian roulette.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Think, think, think Kyle</em>. <em>Use your fuckin’ brain. You’re too young to die. What about mom ? Dad ? Ike ? Stan</em> <em>?</em> Visibly, there was no solution for Kyle. The only thing he could do was get up fromwhere he was hiding and run as fast as possible to the stairs.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>You can do it Kyle. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>You did years of Basketball. You run very fast. They can't do anything to you. You'll just have to go down the stairs very quickly. They won't even pay attention to you.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle inhaled several times to calm his tremors and the beating of his heart. He had one last thought for his family, and suddenly— he got up.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He ran with all his might along the walls of the rooftop, feeling the gaze of all the people on him and dodging all the obstacles that were in his way. </span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>You’re almost there. YOU’RE ALMOST THERE</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He got to the other end of the rooftop, still alive. When he had put his feet on the steel footbridge, and was about to go down the stairs, he felt a strong grip on the collar of his shirt which pulled him back very easily. </span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s1"><em>SHIT. NO NO NO</em>.</span> <span class="s1">He tried to grab the hand that held him, but it was three times his size. He tripped over a lamp that had fallen to the ground, and was dragged to the ground by the collar. The muscular hand grabbed his forearm to lift him, then encircled his neck with Herculean force. He felt his back press against the chest of a man whose face he had not even seen. Kyle had trouble breathing. His eyes were still burning, but he could see very clearly now. In front of him was a group of men distressed by the situation. They were all dressed in civilian clothes and pointed their weapons at Kyle. </span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He had just been caught by Leonardo's henchmen.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Please, please, please let me go, I- I- I have nothing to do with it!’ Kyle's sharp voice was hard to get out of his throat because the man’s big arm was cutting his breath.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Shut the fuck up.’ Leonardo exclaimed.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle suddenly felt a cold object against his temple. He swallowed.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Rizzuto's henchman had just put the barrel of his weapon against his skull.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He would surely die tonight.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Silent tears ran down his face without being able to stop.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Let us go or we'll blow the ginger's brains out,’ Rizzuto said in a calm, firm voice. No weapon had yet lowered. A sob escaped from the intern's mouth. ‘You don't want to have the death of an innocent on your hands.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘I'm sorry if I wasn’t clear Rizzuto. But I will do anything to catch you tonight. And nothing, nobody will prevent that. If the kid dies, you’ll have it on <em>your</em> hands. ’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Nobody clearly gave a fuck about Kyle. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear Agent Douglas. If the boy dies, you die too. And all your men.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘I doubt that.’ </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">In a burst of despair, Kyle tried with all his might to escape from the grip of the man by moving his legs and trying to remove his big arm from his neck. But nothing helped. He had the strength of a fly compared to his muscles.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Giuseppe, kill him.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH’ Kyle let out a heart-rending cry as he dipped his nails into Giuseppe's forearm. Every muscle in his body let go of him, he couldn't stand up any longer. He thought he would never experience such psychological pain in his life. To know that you were going to die in the most painful way was an immense mental torture. He thought of all the people he loved. About all the regrets he had had in his life. The pain and guilt his father would feel for sending him to this Lawyer cabinet.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>No Dad, it's not your fault. It's just a set of bad circumstances. Life is cruel.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Giuseppe ?’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle was still breathing. But his closed eyes prevented him from seeing his death coming. He opened his eyes, not understanding why he was still alive and why everyone was suddenly silent.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The young man first saw the shocked looks of the FBI agents. He quickly looked down at Giuseppe. He gasped when he saw that three small sabers had vertically pierced his chest, blood spilling and soaking his shirt, and a few drops had splashed on Kyle's clothes. He opened his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’. The blades gently pulled out of Giuseppe's inert body, and he fell full length to the ground. His lying corpse now made way for the figure with a masked face that Kyle had never seen. And considering everyone else's reaction, he was a total stranger to everyone in this room.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">Everything happened very quickly. Kyle hadn't had time to properly observe the physique of the newcomer. The latter threw two shuriken at high speed.</span> <span class="s1">One went on the right and the other on the left, grazing the redhead's forehead. They both arrived right in the trachea of Leonardo Rizzuto and another of his henchmen. Kyle was on the verge of vomiting when he saw all these dead people. But he did not have the opportunity to do it. The stranger ran to Kyle and grabbed him by the waist, yelling ‘Hold me!’</span></p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">He felt himself carried away by the masked man’s arm and automatically wrapped his arms under the armpits of the stranger. He opened his eyes wide when they jumped over the low wall that delimited the rooftop and threw themselves into the void. The intern barely had time to shout an ‘OH MY GOD’ before hearing gunshots flying all over the place. The adrenaline rushed through his whole body as they plummeted into the air for several meters,</span> <span class="s1">before stopping abruptly, restrained by an immense rope which linked them from the rooftop to the belt of the stranger. Kyle slowly felt his arms slide down the man’s body and his own body being drawn by gravity.</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Fuck! Fuck!’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Put your legs around my waist and close your eyes!’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle clasped the man’s torso with all his might with his arms and used the strength of his abs to lift his legs and encircle them at the level of the stranger’s hips. The latter began to swing back and forth using the rope, his two legs knocking against the building wall several times. When he had enough impulse, he managed to break the window in front of him thanks to the strength of his legs.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kyle fell to his feet in the hotel room they had just landed in. The masked man untied the rope from his belt and in turn landed on the floor. The redhead pressed his arm against one of the walls of the room and put his other hand on his chest to catch his breath. He had just experienced more emotions in ten minutes than in his whole life. Unlike him, the man who saved his life did not take the time to rest. He walked quickly to the bedroom door, opened it, and looked down the hall to see if the way was clear. Kyle's gaze tried to analyze his physique despite the darkness of the room. He was slightly taller than the intern. He wore a long red cape that almost trailed on the floor. His hair seemed to be dark. A black mask masked the top of his face. It seemed to make him look like an animal. A panda. Or a sloth. His pants and his top were in gray tones. On his fingers, strung like rings, he had several blades, still stained with Giuseppe's blood. He also wore a belt that contained several gadgets. And his shoes were black lace-up high boots. Kyle didn't have time to observe him any longer. The stranger quickly came back to him, grabbing him by the collar to straighten him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Listen to me. You have to go down the stairs very quickly and leave the hotel. There is an emergency exit in the basement, you’ll be able to dodge the entrance hall where policemen are waiting. Go home. Don't hang around.’ His voice was calm and strict. Kyle had looked into his eyes to try to read any information there. His pupils were moving quickly from right to left.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The masked man released him and walked toward the window. Hearing his voice, Kyle understood that he was forcing himself to adopt a deep voice. Some kind of not really credible imitation of Bruce Wayne.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘WAIT!’ Kyle exclaimed, running after him to grab him by the arm. Frowning, he looked again at Kyle. The moonlight allowed him to observe some additional details of his face, such as his lips and chin.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">‘Please, wait! Tell me who you are!’ He begged him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He looked at him for a few seconds before detaching himself from his grip and jumping out of the window without another word.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Mouth speechless, Kyle watched him disappear. After a moment, he tried to lean through the broken window to see where he had gone. But he had left no trace. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hunt The Animals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kyle woke up the next day with a fucking migraine. His sleep had lasted only four hours. When he woke up, he still had a tight feeling in his stomach. He felt terribly in danger. The mafia knew his face, and surely his identity, since he worked for Feinstein. Surely the FBI and the rest of the mafia must have thought that Kyle was in cahoots with the... <em>superhero?</em></p><p>The trainee had kept his shutters down and double-locked the door of his apartment. Every step he heard in the hallway, he became anxious. He was sure that people would seek to find him for revenge. Leonardo Rizzuto was dead. And that smelled really bad.</p><p>Around 1pm, when he finally took a shower and got dressed, he decided to call his best friend. The only person he trusted who could help him out of this situation. He had purposely ignored the many messages that David Feinstein had written to him. He facetime called Stan.</p><p>‘What’s up— woah. You look shitfaced dude, hahaha.’ Stan’s poor quality voice was heard through the iPhone as well as his laughter.</p><p>‘You have to listen to me Stan. Something very serious is going on.’ Kyle said with a trembling voice.</p><p>Stan's face changed dramatically and he sat straighten up in his office chair, frowning.</p><p>‘I can't explain everything to you now. I’m in danger. I have to leave New York. I need you to buy me a plane ticket. I will refund you directly upon my return, but I cannot use my own internet connection to do it. Buy me a ticket for 8 p.m., JFK Airport. ’</p><p>‘Oh fuck Kyle— You.. You’re alright ? You’re scaring me.’</p><p>To be honest, the dark circles under his eyes and the scratches he had on his face were not at all reassuring for his best friend.</p><p>‘I'm fine at the moment. But I absolutely need you on this one. I trust you. Please. And... don't say anything to my family yet. "</p><p>‘Did something happen in the cabinet? If it's one of your colleagues, I swear to God I’m going to— ‘</p><p>‘I’ll tell you everything, I promise, just— do as I said, okay?’</p><p>‘I'll be driving to Denver tonight, I'll come get you at the airport—‘</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>While Stan was speaking, Kyle received a notification on his phone screen. He had just received a text message from an unknown number.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>13:41</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>ur goin nowhere</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>‘Uh Stan, we’ll talk later. I gotta’ go. Love you.’ Kyle said hastily, ending the call. His heart was beating a hundred miles an hour. It really wasn’t the right time for bad jokes. What if this was one of those mobsters? He rushed to his window to look under the shutters. But there was absolutely no one in his alley.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Who are you ????? What do you want ??????</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>stop usin ur fuckin phone or ur gonna get killed</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>
      
    </em>
  </b>
  <b></b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>and ur boyfriend too</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The redhead tried to call the unknown phone number. But without success. Strangely, he got directly an answering machine. He would have preferred to finish it as soon as possible. The text messaging was even more stressful.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Tell me what you want but please don't do any harm to my friend</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>im not a fuckin wop</em>
  </b>
  <b></b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>im the stunning hot guy that saved ur ass</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>‘Whaaaaat…’ Kyle stared at his screen, dumbfounded. He expected anything but the day before's superhero to contact him. His spelling, as well as his messages, baffled him. He did not know how to answer. His butt sat on the edge of his bed. He was a little relieved.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>13:54</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Well… thank you</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After ten minutes, the stranger still didn’t respond. It was pure torture. Kyle had so many questions about yesterday’s events.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>14:04</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>But why did you saved *me* ?</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>stOP USIN UR PHONE GOD DAMN IT</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>You can’t leave me without answers !!!</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I don’t know what to do right now !!!!!!!!</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>14:32</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>dont take the plane 2night. its too dangerous. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>just stay at ur current place.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>honestly dude my job’s not to fuckin babysit u</em>
  </b>
  <b></b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>first I need to get rid of rizzuto’s close guard</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>2night or theyll come to get our asses</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>ALONE ?</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>well ya of course alone</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>u think were in a lame ass shit avengers movie or what ??</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>this is real life</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kyle bit his nails, staring at the brick wall facing him. How could he get rid of several men, armed to the teeth, all by himself? The stranger will likely die this evening. And the redhead felt so indebted… and useless. He had risked his life to save a miserable intern who, had he been dead, no one would have missed. Kyle’s death wouldn’t have changed anything. The world would have continued to rotate, as usual. And yet...</p><p>He took a deep breath. He was not at all sure what he was going to offer. But something deep inside made him think of the unimaginable. The young man ended up sending the fateful message before he’d loose his balls.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>14:49</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Let me help you.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>14:57</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>the only way for u to help me is to STAY AT UR PLACE</em>
  </b>
  <b></b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>plz</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>ill tell u when u can go back to Denver, but for now…</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>be quiet</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The redhead sighed, dropping his phone on the bed and rubbing his face with both hands. His migraine would definitely not go away anytime soon. He felt like he had a hammer hitting both parts of his skull. He decided to swallow two aspirin tablets and return under his sheets, too disturbed to do anything else.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>1st Avenue, Manhattan. 10pm</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Yeah, Kyle knew he shouldn't be leaving his house under any circumstances. But after several hours of hiding, he realized no one had planned to show up to kidnap him. He was also terribly hungry since he ran out of food in his fridge. He would have called a delivery man, but the stranger asked him to stop using his phone.</p><p>His plan was simple: go out for fifteen minutes— the right time to go to his favorite fast-food restaurant in a very touristy street where he wouldn't risk being attacked. He wanted to avoid the alleys. At least if someone tried to assassinate him, it would be in plain sight.</p><p> </p><p>Kyle had the gift to reassure himself.</p><p> </p><p>Kyle had put on a pair of black jeans, slip-on vans and a basic gray t-shirt. Thus, he hoped to go unnoticed among crowds of more or less eccentric humans. The past few months had been so weird for him. Living in a city like New York was a radical change. Sometimes he would take the time to stop in the middle of the street and stare at the skyscrapers. He found these buildings unattainable. Unreal. He felt so small and insignificant. Even when he stopped to look at the landscape, people kept going very fast. In all directions. The billboards were sending thousands of pieces of information in seconds. The atmosphere could quickly get stuffy. You could easily feel inadequate. The buildings in South Park were so small that he climbed their roofs several times with his childhood friends. In South Park, he was the center of attention. And also the center of problems. He had always lived with this feeling of frenzy, constant danger, and his brain had learn to find very quick solutions to get out of these problems, whether facing his parents, his teachers, the police or foreign governments. He had to admit it… he kind of missed it.</p><p>On the other hand, the independent student life had its positive sides. At university he got to know his first serious love experiences. Since he no longer lived with his parents, obviously, it was easier for him to have a proper sexual life. Right now, he had a <em>fuck buddies</em> type of relationship with a guy named Edward, also a studying law. He found it really weird. But he soon realized that the majority of the Boulder students were not interested in exclusive relationships. <em>This sucks</em>, he thought. He needed to take time to build a relationship with a person to get to know them deep down. Otherwise, it was hard for him to be strongly attract to someone. He grew up with a vision of love constructed by romantic comedies which he and Stan secretly loved.</p><p>A car had just slowed down alongside Kyle, interrupting his flow of thought at the same time. At first, he didn’t notice it, continuing to walk along the sidewalk. It was only when the car window was lowered that he curiously turned his head towards the car. His heart missed a beat when he saw the face of Feinstein Jr smirking.</p><p>'Get in the car Broflovski.’ He said with a firm voice.</p><p>Kyle's eyes opened wide and he looked straight ahead, pretending he hadn't heard David. He accelerated the pace.</p><p>‘I'm not joking with you. Get. In. The. Car.’ He added, pulling out a gun to point it at the redhead.</p><p>The latter let out a sharp cry, feeling his body paralyzed. The fact that David allowed himself to put his gun out in front of everyone without fear of reprisal frightened him. The back door opened, and a bodyguard grabbed him to force him getting in the car. Kyle banged his head against the top of it while being pulled and let out a cry of pain. The car drove off.</p><p>‘WHO THE HELL ARE YOU WORKING FOR ?’ David started screaming as he turned back to stare at his hostage, still pointing his gun in his direction.</p><p>Kyle's heart was pounding fast. He raised his arms up to proclaim his innocence. His body was shaking from head to toe.</p><p>‘I s-swear to God dude, I don’t know what happened at the club I-‘</p><p>‘I’m supposed to believe that you don’t know this bitch wearing a cape ?’</p><p>Right now, he didn't know if he should blame the masked stranger for involving him in his problems or blame his stomach which had begged him to go out eat a kebab. Was he really going to get shot in the brain for a damn kebab? The driver was accelerating at high speed, and Kyle was forced to put one hand against the roof of the car so as not to be shaken.</p><p>‘I don’t!’</p><p>‘Do you realize that now that Leonardo Rizzuto is dead, there’s no one to protect the cabinet, and there’s a big chance that our asses are going to be sued ? DO YOU REALIZE ?’ He exclaimed, leaning even more to press the gun against Kyle's thigh.</p><p>‘FUCKIREALIZEIREALIZEI’MSORRYI’LLHELPYOUBUTISWEARIDON’TKNOWTHISSONOFABITCH’ Kyle implored, tears coming to his eyes as he imagined the pain that a bullet in his leg might cause him.</p><p>‘We’ll test your loyalty.’</p><p>Loyalty? His tremors subsided when David pulled the gun from his thigh to focus on the road again. Honestly, Feinstein's son had no charisma. The only thing that kept Kyle being submissive was the fucking gun he held in his hands.</p><p>Outside it was dark and he had no idea where they were going. Feinstein Jr and his bodyguards were talking to each other, but Kyle had no idea what they were talking about. He was too busy torturing his mind, wondering what they could ask him to do.</p><p>They finally arrived in front of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse in the middle of a deserted place. The bodyguard pulled the redhead out of the car, keeping a gun pointed at his neck, which did nothing to reassure the young man. He followed the group and couldn't help but notice that several cars were already parked. Which meant they were going to have some company.</p><p>Entering the entrance hall, Kyle saw about twenty henchmen before him. He wondered if they worked directly for Feinstein Jr or if they were the last remaining members of the Italian-Canadian mafia. Anyway, everyone fell silent when David entered the room, and he felt stern looks on his frail body. He felt like a prey facing predators.</p><p>‘Did you tie him ?’ The young man asked, approaching a huge central door.</p><p>‘Yes boss. He’s all yours.’ One of the men replied with a blatant Italian accent, crushing his cigarette end under his sole.</p><p>‘Fine. I trust you to keep an eye on the entrance hall. It'll be fast.’ David turned his gaze to Kyle. ‘You’re comin’ with me.’</p><p>And without another word, he opened the door to let in only the redhead, followed by the bodyguard who pointed the gun on his neck, as well as two additional men who carried rifles.</p><p> </p><p>What he saw in the room made his hackles rise.</p><p> </p><p>They had just arrived in a large room where there were several rows of shelves filled with cardboard boxes. In the middle, tied to a chair, was the superhero who saved him last night. He looked down and seemed exhausted, his arms were immobilized against the back of the chair. The five men stopped when they arrived two meters from the tied man.</p><p>Kyle held his breath. He didn't want to imagine the worst things that could happen in the next few moments. David instead had a huge smile, like his goons.</p><p>‘I imagine this is where your friendship will end, my dears.’ David said, addressing Kyle and the stranger.</p><p>Kyle didn’t have the guts to meet the masked man’s gaze. He wouldn’t have the guts to hold his gaze knowing that there was nothing he could do to help him. He felt so useless. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the stranger had kept his face down. The bodyguard, who had been standing behind him so far, stepped forward to Kyle’s left side to face the stranger. David meanwhile was to the right side of the room, admiring the scene with his two goons at his sides.</p><p>‘I'll ask one last time Broflovski. You'd better give me the right answer.’ Feinstein Jr warned him, crossing his arms over his chest that were now contracted in the sleeves of his black blazer. ‘Do you know this guy?’</p><p>The stranger looked up at Kyle. Their eyes met, which made him completely loose his composure.</p><p>’N-No, I don’t know him. I told you.’ He glanced furtively at David before looking at the stranger again, fearing that the superhero might contradict him. But he was silent.</p><p>‘So you don't mind if we blow his brains out before your eyes?’</p><p>At that point, the bodyguard raised his arm to point his gun toward the superhero. But he did not move an inch. The gun aimed at his head did not make him react at all. On the contrary, he kept his gaze in Kyle's. Kyle felt his heart pounding again. His whole body was alert to the impending danger.</p><p>Something in their silent exchange made his stomach turn. It was a strange feeling that he had never felt in his life. He felt a link being woven in spite of himself, something that bound the two men and prevented him from wishing him any harm. The kind of strange bond that made him want to give his life for a man he had never met before. He felt like he was going crazy. If he was rational, he would seek to save his skin first. After all, whenever he was left alone with these mobsters, a gun pointed at him, he could have died at any time. And all because of this stranger, who involved him in this mess. Would he have felt the slightest guilt to see Kyle die, in the opposite situation? His head was screaming at him to think about his family, and how much his death would be a disaster for his entourage. Now was not the time to be selfish.</p><p>‘If you don't answer within ten seconds, you're the one who's dying Broflovski." David's voice took his breath away.</p><p>Neither the superhero nor Kyle had broken the eye contact. Kyle was a wise man. But those damn eyes were playing tricks on him. The man had the kind of eyes that were able to push him over the edge. And he felt himself falling slowly.</p><p>‘You wouldn't want to get on a Jewish brother’s bad side, would you?’ David chuckled.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>If we don't hunt, then these animals will grow too big in number and they won't have enough food. So you see, we have to kill animals, or else they'll die.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Unexpectedly, these words from Uncle Jimbo came to his mind. He remembered memories of huntings with Jimbo and his friends that came one after another in his mind at high speed, with landscapes of the distant Colorado forests. The different ways to hold a weapon. To aim. Shoot. Then charge. Almost child's play.</p><p>Before Kyle made the first move, he would have sworn he saw the shadow of a smile on the corner of the stranger's lips. Out of the blue, Kyle threw a spinning back kick in the bodyguard's head. Surprisingly, he had managed to reach his neck, which made him stumble and drop his weapon. Thanks to a he-didn’t-know-what kind of movement, the superhero had managed to swing the chair over David's head, which caused him and one of the two henchmen to fall on the ground. But he still had his both hands tied behind his back. Kyle had to hurry. He slid on his lap and grabbed the gun that was on the ground before getting up and pointing it at the henchman who was still standing. He managed to shoot two bullets in the man’s belly. The gunman in turn tried to point his rifle at the masked man, but the latter rushed at him while running and struck him in the chest with his head.</p><p>Kyle, for his part, had forgotten the bodyguard who, indeed, was no longer armed, but was still alive. He tackled the redhead on the ground while trying to take the weapon from his hands. Lying on the ground Kyle was tenacious, but he wouldn’t be able to resist for long the bodyguard’s strength. The man was grabbing his neck with one hand to suffocate him. Somehow, the redhead was trying to move his pelvis to extricate himself but nothing worked. He used his free index and middle finger to press them into the eyes of the bodyguard. The man started to moan in pain. Then suddenly, a thick blade crossed the room and crashed in the middle of his skull. Kyle winced and gasped when he saw the bodyguard die before his eyes. His inert body fell on the redhead and he screamed in disgust.</p><p>‘OH GOD, OH GOD, REMOVE HIM’ Kyle yelled, closing his eyelids.</p><p>The masked man, who had finally chose to cut the throat of the other men present in the room and had managed to free his hands from the ropes, looked up at the redhead. He approached the spot where Kyle was lying. Using his foot, he turned the dead body over nonchalantly to free the redhead.</p><p>‘Thank you…’ Kyle sighed. When he opened his eyes again, he had a surprised expression plastered on his face. The superhero had placed himself above Kyle, his legs spanning the body of the former intern, before crouching at the redhead’s hips. His left leg was kneeling on the ground while his right leg was bent, allowing him to lean his arm on his raised knee. His face was only inches from Kyle's, and he couldn't help but swallow at this unexpected proximity that disturbed him. For the first time, he could see the appearance of the stranger in an illuminated room. He especially noticed that his thighs were huge compared to his. His build was bigger than Kyle's, that was for sure. His face clearly didn't have Batman’s jawline nor the hint of an emerging beard. On the contrary, he had a rather round and beardless face. Only a slight down could be observed if attention was paid to it. The stranger grabbed Kyle’s face with the tip of his two fingers, each fitted with blade-shaped rings. If Kyle moved a millimeter, it would cut his skin.</p><p>‘Now… tell me why you didn't obey me?’ He asked in a calm, yet threatening voice.</p><p>Kyle who was lost in reverie, contemplating the stranger's body, suddenly frowned not having heard his question.</p><p>‘I told you to keep your ass locked up at home. We almost died because of you, asshole.’ He pronounced these words as if he were spitting them out of his mouth, visibly pissed off by the young man's attitude. He stood up and released Kyle's body to retrieve the knives he had thrown across the room.</p><p>Kyle got up too with an angry face, trying to put his clothes back in place. He had a lot of blood stains.</p><p>‘Well, fuck you. I just saved your life. You’re welcome.’ The intern replied wickedly. His interlocutor turned to him again, lips parted to say something. He was no longer as upset as he was a few moments ago, but was interrupted by shouts coming from behind the door.</p><p>‘LEONARDO, WHAT’S HAPPENING ? IS EVERYTHING OKAY THERE ?’</p><p> </p><p>All of Kyle's muscles contracted.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>‘We’re gonna need to run.’</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Kyle's Big Mistake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone ! Thank you so much for reading this small fic. I think next chapter will be the last one. Then I will create a new multiple-chapter story to continue this series and you'll be able to see how their relationship will evolve :) Enjoy !</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kyle was out of breath. He felt like his lungs were going to drop him any minute. His throat itched because of lack of air. His t-shirt was stained with blood and drenched in sweating. He felt horribly dirty, but it was the last of his problems. What had he gotten himself into? He hadn’t experienced such trouble since high school. He had become too old for that. No footsteps could be heard in the alley. So he decided to stop running and rest his back against the brick wall on his right. His head also rested against the cool bricks of the building and his eyelids fell. He could have fallen asleep right here, right away.</p><p>In panic, Kyle and the superhero fled across two different paths. The redhead had come out through a back door at the other side of the room and found himself directly outside. The stranger had taken the stairs to an exit on the roof. As he ran to escape the kidnappers, Kyle had watched the superhero jump from rooftop to rooftop before he disappeared from his vision.</p><p>An explosion was heard in the distance. The young man had turned his gaze towards the warehouse. His pupils were lit up by the flames he saw in the distance. Thick smoke had begun to rise in the sky, and he had resumed his course before arriving in this silent alley.</p><p>A light rain had started to fall from the sky. He could feel the cold raindrops on his bare arms and face. Kyle had just seen a bunch of people die before his eyes. By his fault. Blood in abundance. Someone else’s blood on his body. He should have felt fear and the urge to vomit. But no. His veins were pumping his blood at high speed and his pupils were dilated.</p><p>Kyle was excited. His body was asking for more. It was like a drug. He felt like he had forgotten what it was like to go on a tumultuous adventure, and now that he had tasted it again, the sensations were increased tenfold. South Park had conditioned him to it. He won't ever be able to lead a normal life.</p><p>The feeling of some movement in the air had made him open his eyes. He directly faced the face of the stranger with whom he had fled, their eyes being on the same level, a few inches apart. He frowned. Indeed, the masked man was suspended in the air thanks to the rope which linked his belt to a very high and non-functioning lamp post, leaving the alley in the dark. His legs were raised in the air, crossed around the rope, and he had crossed his arms against his chest. His long brown hair, which was usually flawlessly groomed, fell down. His big brown eyes watched him with mischief.</p><p>A smirk crossed Kyle’s lips. He had his eyelids half-lidded by fatigue and because of the annoying raindrops falling on his face. He had caught his breath, but his chest was still rising and lowering to try to calm down. He had no idea how the superhero managed to get into this posture.</p><p>‘Aren’t you mad at me?’ The brown haired guy tried, with a hesitant pout and pursed lips. Even if his face was upside down, Kyle could easily read his emotions.</p><p>They looked at each other for a moment. 'How could I ? If you hadn't been there yesterday, I would be dead.’ The redhead replied. The idea that his life could have end at 23 gave him chills.</p><p>‘You... You could have give up on me. I wouldn't mind. You put yourself in danger.’ The superhero stammered, as if he could never have believed that Kyle could risk his life for him. He no longer dared to look him in the eye. The brunet regretted lecturing him in the warehouse.</p><p>The redhead rolled his eyes, straightening up, which made their faces get a little closer.</p><p>‘Can you please just get down on your feet, explain me what happened, tell me who you are, and let me thank you by offering you dinner or I don’t know—‘ Kyle suggested, trying to draw his gaze back to his. God he wished he could see through him.</p><p>The superhero dared to look at him again, with a neutral expression this time and cut him off.</p><p>'I can’t stay too long. I just wanted to see you one last time. And I wanted to— wait what the hell you’re doing ?’</p><p> </p><p>The stranger's eyebrows furrowed when he saw Kyle's face - already too close - getting closer. He felt the young man's wet palms settle on his warm cheeks. His lips parted in misunderstanding. There was a moment when he saw the student’s green eyes piercing his gaze. The superhero felt so vulnerable right now, he, the man who always had the feeling of having the upper hand in this relationship. Hell, he always thought he had the upper hand over his relationship with Kyle, from childhood. Playing <em>The Coon</em> role, remaining anonymous, and saving the life of his best enemy were just additional pleasures that reinforced his belief that he dominated him. But right now, everything was reversed.</p><p>His heart started to beat very hard against his rib cage. He didn't like that. He did not like this position, nor what Kyle managed to provoke inside him. But he didn't have time to protest. Kyle's soft lips had landed on his own damaged lips. The scene was so surreal. The kiss tasted like light rain, sweating and blood. It felt <em>so</em> wrong. He felt like the normal course of history had just been completely destroyed and that he had no more bearings. <em>This</em> should never have happened. All because of a red-haired Jew. Cartman took time to remember that Kyle was unaware of his identity. He was suddenly dizzy. The Coon's lips had remained still as he had been in shock. But despite the situation, he had felt that there was something reassuring in this exchange. A heat. He couldn't say where it came from. But deep inside him, everything was turned upside down.</p><p>Kyle didn't know what to expect from this kiss. In fact, he didn’t expect anything. It was just the most spontaneous way for him to thank the young man for saving his life. There was nothing sexual about it. He needed to thank him in a strongly manner, let him know that he was extremely grateful to him, and leave an impression on him as the stranger had managed to do it with the redhead. He was afraid that by only saying simple words, his thanks would not have been enough. <em>And maybe a little bit because he got a thing for masked men.</em> He was surprised at how soft the skin on his face was, and how damaged his lips were. The kiss did not last long. It was surprising and brief. When he opened his eyelids and pulled away, he barely had time to see the surprised look of his partner in crime. The latter quickly went up towards the lamp post thanks to his belt before climbing on the roof of the building, without a word.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What a strange sequence of events.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>That evening, when Eric Cartman had returned home, it was very late at night. The sun would rise soon. But he hadn’t really had time to think about his first homosexual contact. His poor mother was scared to death and had not find any rest. She knew what he was going to do that night. And she had done everything to prevent him from doing it. Liane couldn't bear the idea that her son would do such horrible things. Of course, she had been used from childhood to face the atrocities of his child. But she had prayed so much for him to change as an adult.</p><p>But how could she blame him? She also had her own flaws.</p><p> </p><p>Arriving in the living room of their small apartment, Cartman looked at his mother’s curled up silhouette on the leather armchair. He removed his mask, which messed up his hair. He looked exhausted.</p><p>‘It’s done.’</p><p>Air was caught in his throat when he saw that his mother's face was puffy with tears. She looked upset. But he didn't know if it was against him or against the whole situation.</p><p>‘You shouldn’t have done that.’ She said with a shaky voice.</p><p>‘I don’t give a shit. I just ended four years of fear and suffering.’ His fingers came to untie the threads that held his cape around his neck before placing it on a piece of furniture in the room. ‘I still believe it was the right thing to do…’ He muttered.</p><p>‘THINGS ARE GOING TO BE WORSE ERIC!’ She exploded and the brunet's muscles contracted. ‘H-How will you be able to finish your studies and live your life normally if you keep… if you keep killing people ?!’ Liane Cartman exploded in tears, again, and her face fell against the palms of her hands.</p><p>Eric couldn’t lie, seeing his mother in this condition made him feel a pinch in his heart. <em>Fuck</em>. He looked away, sighing. No matter what he did, his destiny was to disappoint his mother. He couldn't remember a single time when he made his mother feel proud. For Liane, it seemed that his son never realized the gravity of his acts. Their family was <em>fucked up</em>. Eventually, he got closer to his mother and put an arm around her to hug her tightly against his stomach.</p><p>‘I’ll always find a way out.’</p><p>And that was true. One of Cartman’s qualities was that he was resourceful. He wasn't afraid of anything or anyone. And if he had to get his hands dirty to get out of a situation, he would. He felt his mother's body tremble against him because of her sobs.</p><p> </p><p>The past four years have been strange. He left South Park at the end of high school a little rushed, to move to a small town in Pennsylvania. Liane was flirting with a questionable businessman during his high school years. Eric didn't care. His mother’s romantic relationships did not affect his life, and he spent most of his time outside of his home. But suddenly, he remembered, they had a lot of money to spend. His mother offered him more and more clothes, as well as the latest Apple products for instance, when before they did not necessarily have the means to afford them. Something seemed off for Cartman : they depended too much on that man. He was pretty sure that one day or another, it would backfire.</p><p>One day, he decided he didn't want to pursue his relationship with Liane anymore. He broke up with her. But he also asked her to refund him for all the huge expenses she had accumulated all these years. She never expected to have to repay everything. She had no permanent job, and her income was meager. He didn’t care. Threats continued to mount. Strangers came late at night to break their windows, scratch their car, smash their doors, or calling them on their phones to remind them of the various sums that needed to be paid according to certain deadlines.</p><p>It quickly became unlivable. She had decided to move with her son far from South Park, where they wouldn’t find them easily, and far from John's main home. They lived in a small apartment, which allowed her to spend less money on rent and thus gradually repay John. But he continued to ask for higher and higher sums, with shorter and shorter deadlines. Cartman had seen his mother going crazy and fall into depression. The last straw was when the Italian-Canadian Mafia arrived in New York to start their business. John had long-standing ties to the Rizzuto family. And if Liane could no longer pay, he would send the mobsters to take care of them, since they weren’t far from her.</p><p>Cartman had lived four painful years. Far from his childhood town and his friends. Living in constant anxiety about not having enough money to eat. His student life was punctuated by depression, anxiety and his conflictual relationship with food. When he put on <em>The Coon</em> costume again, things were getting better. He felt like he could finally regain control over his life, and no longer be powerless.</p><p> </p><p>‘Go get some sleep. We’re going back to Colorado.’</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>That evening - or rather that morning - Cartman had a lot of trouble falling asleep. The <em>Kyle problem </em>wasn’t foreseen in his equation. He had been so shocked to see him at the Press Lounge. Obviously, he had to rescue him that night. Even if for years he had pretended to hate this guy, he could never have born the idea that Kyle Broflovski was no longer on Earth. To see him again after so many years had been a great surprise, frankly. Many memories from high school had returned to him. Particularly that strange moment when they had to say goodbye to each other and Eric had a lump in his throat. They had not been particularly best friends. But this last summer in South Park had brought him a little closer to his enemy, especially at a difficult time when he was experiencing a breakup with Heidi.</p><p>This guy always aroused a multitude of conflicting emotions inside of him, and that highly annoyed Cartman. The redhead always found a way to shake up his life. There had even been a period when Kyle had managed to make him doubt his sexual orientation. If during their middle school years he hadn’t felt any physical attraction toward his best enemy, things had changed when they entered junior year. Kyle's body and face had become much more mature, like all the other boys in the school. September was the month when the realization hit him. The redhead had started to wear clothes that highlighted his figure, started to wear cologne, and to accept his curly hair. He was also obviously taking care of the skin on his face which now looked much smoother in appearance. Since then, when the two young men argued, it became more and more difficult for Cartman who was disturbed by his childhood friend’s appearance.</p><p>He didn't know at the time if Kyle felt the same way. The only thing he learned in senior year was that he was gay. It was a second shock for Eric. But when they were finally apart at the end of the year, he had swept all of those ideas away too. It was just a weird period. His hormones playing tricks on him, maybe. Kyle and Eric weren't attracted to each other. They were just really close and both shared had a heavy emotional background. It was neither love nor a super-friendship. But it was something. Cartman had never managed to put a name on their relationship. But after all, did he really had to put a name on it ?</p><p>But again, Kyle had turned the tide. And hundreds of questions came back to the brunet's mind.</p><p>The next afternoon, he would have thought that Kyle had already flown to Colorado. The Jew had experienced atrocious things during the past two days. He needed some rest, and especially a return to normalcy. Coming back to his friends and family would do him a lot of good.</p><p>Eric frowned. Lying in bed, he woke up around 5pm and had unlocked his untraceable phone by habit. He went to see on his GPS app where Kyle was right now. He refrained from letting out a sigh of exasperation when he saw that the redhead was still in his New York apartment. He couldn't help but text him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>17:12</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>why the fuck r u still in nyc ?????</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>17:17</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Join me at the Mandarin Oriental hotel,</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>in the ballroom foyer. Level 36. Tonight,</em> </b>
</p><p><b> <em>11pm.</em> </b> <b></b></p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Oh and, wear a mask ;);););)</em> </b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chaos Was The Greatest of All Places</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>FINALLY ! Here's the final chapter of this small story. It was sooooo long to traduce it in english, but hey, I'm happy I finished. I still don't know when I'll publish the third part of the series, but I want to take my time because it'll contain A LOT of chapters. I hope you enjoyed this small multi-chapter story ! Thank you so much to each of you who read it &lt;3</p><p> </p><p>TW : The chapter contains smut. If you're not at ease with sexual content, I recommend you not reading it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO A <b>MASQUERADE BALL</b> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">AN EVENING OF DINNER AND DANCING </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">HOSTED BY THE <em>BLOOMBERG FAMILY FOUNDATION </em></span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">SUNDAY, JULY 26TH </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">FROM 8:00 PM UNTIL 2 AM</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">BALLROOM FOYER LEVEL 36 </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Mandarin Oriental hotel</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">80 COLUMBUS CIR, NEW YORK</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Eric Cartman was staring at the invitation card he was holding in his hands. He stood outside of the hotel wondering if it was really a good idea to come tonight. Maybe Kyle had been kidnapped and he was tricked into inviting him tonight? Maybe it’s a plan to capture him? He shook his head. He highly doubted that anyone would seek revenge. The message had been clear: The Coon would kill <em>anything</em> that would deliberately cross his path.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He wore a soberly midnight blue suit. His white shirt was buttoned up to his neck. And it was decorated with a tie the same color as his jacket. His pants were straight, perfectly cut at the level of his ankles. He hated men who didn’t properly adjust the length of their pants. The pants that were too long, folded down, horrified him. The mask he was wearing was that of his superhero outfit: black, imitating the shape of a raccoon's face. It perfectly camouflaged his upper face to the nose. So Kyle could recognize the superhero without guessing his true identity.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Maybe tonight was an opportunity to tell the truth? Is it okay to let your enemy kiss you without him knowing who you really are? Isn’t that something that goes beyond the limits of consent? </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">'Good evening sir. Can I see your invitation, please?’ A gentleman greeted him at the entrance of the hotel with a big smile. Eric guessed by his outfit that he was working in the hotel as a host. He handed the small card to the man and retrieved it when he handed it to him again, and then walked towards the entrance hall. ‘You will find an elevator on your left. A hostess will accompany you to floor 36. Have a nice evening.’</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The furniture style was modern. The interior was decorated with black marble on the ground and a lot of dimmed lamps. The dominant colors were black and gold. If Cartman ever succeeded in acquiring a mansion in his future life, he would surely decorate it like this. The hotel gave the impression of perfect cleanliness and of being spacious. You could easily guess that it was not just anyone who could afford to pay for a night here. He was actually greeted by a young woman at the elevator. She was immaculately dressed, no wrinkled clothes, and the makeup on her face was intact. She looked like one of those Qatar Airways flight attendants. He entered the elevator with a group of ten other people. Obviously, he didn't know any of them, and he would certainly not meet anyone else familiar during this event. He didn’t mind. He socialized very easily with strangers.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The ballroom foyer was gigantic. The walls were mostly made of huge picture windows that gave a view over New York, city of numerous lights. Near the other walls, there were several tables arranged with very rich buffets, as well as bars where the waiters were busy preparing all the cocktails ordered by guests. Not surprisingly, each guest wore a mask. Each style was different. Most were Venetian. Others much simpler like Cartman’s. Tied with a ribbon or held in place with a thin stick. The women had put on their most eccentric dresses. The men were much more restrained in their outfit. At first glance, he couldn’t immediately tell the age range of those people present tonight. They could be really old, or even younger than Eric. Lost in his observation, it took him a few seconds before he realized that a waiter was handing him a tray with several glasses of champagne. His eyes watched the glasses for a moment before choosing one and he thanked the waiter with a polite smile. The brunet recognized the first notes of Lana Del Rey’s song: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o_1aF54DO60"><em>Young and Beautiful</em></a>. She was one of the few pop singers he could stand but he found her lyrics too depressing. He needed a stimulant.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">With his left hand buried in his pants pocket, his silhouette watched the surrounding skyscrapers from the bay window and he finished his drink down in one go. His lips moved to form a smirk. He was satisfied with himself. He had managed to free his family. He still strongly believed it had been the right thing to do. He was not ashamed at all to have felt some excitement at the sight of bad people dying at his hands. It made him feel good. <em>Terribly</em> good. He got back on his feet , ready to climb mountains. He had ambition. The dickheads were dead. Now he could go back to university and return working on the biggest goal of his life: making a lot of money. Obviously, he hadn’t left his latest crime scenes with his hands empty. He had taken the opportunity to strip the deceased bodies of his victims and some of the suitcases they were carrying with them. The money he managed to collect would surely pay him a well-deserved vacation with his mother before going back to college.</span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">He took out from his pocket a honey candy wrapped in a transparent packaging. He put it right under his tongue and closed his eyes when he felt the pleasant taste melt in his mouth. Speaking in that falsely deep voice had damaged a little bit his throat, and that evening he was about to spend with the redhead wasn’t likely to do him any good either. He then raised his wrist to his nose to smell it, just to check if his cologne hadn’t dissipated. He palpated his forearm to feel a hard object: he had camouflaged a blade under the sleeve of his white shirt. Just in case. You can never be sure of anything in this city.</span> <span class="s1">The blade was properly adjusted. He observed his silhouette one last time in the reflection of the bay window.</span> <span class="s1">His superhero costume enhanced his body quite a bit by camouflaging the less flattering parts. Tonight, dressed in an outfit that was as close to his body, he was a little less comfortable. His outfit was very appealing, certainly.</span> <span class="s1">But you could easily see that his belly wasn’t formed of muscles, for instance. He also had rather wide thighs that he didn't like to look at. He sighed. Why did he care? It wasn’t like he wanted to seduce anybody tonight.</span></p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">When he finally turned to face the room full of guests again, he let his gaze wander from person to person. He still couldn't see his childhood friend and yet he had come to the party at 11pm, as the latter had asked him in the text message.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Fuck me, I hate these fuckin’ high heels. I don’t even know why I’m wearing them.’ A young woman was proliferating insults and came to put a hand on Eric’s left shoulder in order to lean on. She winced as she leaned down to remove her shoes. ‘Sorry, do you mind if I use your shoulder for a sec?’ She finally asked the brunet when she had already started her action even before Eric gave his permission.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Cartman snickered, raising an eyebrow at the ridiculousness of the situation. When she got up, he could see her face more closely. She had a pointed chin, a small but raised nose. She had ash blonde hair that she had tied at the top of her head and thick eyebrows. She had a very feminine appearance but an inelegant attitude. It amused Cartman. In a way, she reminded him of Heidi.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Aaah, women. They fantasize about Louboutin shoes all their life and finally realize that they’re shit and they’re impossible to wear.’ He was looking at the other end of the room when he pronounced these words. It was more a thought he made to himself rather than a way to start a conversation.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The stranger frowned as she straightened up, now barefoot. She let go of Cartman's shoulder. ‘What do you know about high heels? It's not like you wear them. "</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He finally turned his gaze to the young woman with an amused smile. ‘Oh, you would be surprised.’</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Indeed, she wasn’t expecting that. Her lips formed a broad smile as she watched the brunet with consideration. ‘I have always appreciated men who express their feminine side.’</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">It surprised him how it was easy for people to flirt with him when he wore the goddamn mask. As if it had some strange power. When he was Eric Cartman, people were fleeing him like the plague. He couldn't blame them, he knew he was unbearable. The problem was: he loved it.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘I suppose you came across the right person.’</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘How come you’re all alone? Are you waiting for your girlfriend?’ She asked, crossing her arms under her chest, her chin up. She was wearing a pretty golden cocktail dress that stopped at her knees.</span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">Eric was single. Free as a bird.</span> <span class="s1">The truth is, he was unable to get into a stable relationship. His relationship with Heidi had been a disaster of which he had been the main culprit. He had been horrible toward her. Clearly, he didn't care about her.</span> <span class="s1">He just needed someone to listen to his complaints, praise his wrongdoings, offer him gifts and he used Heidi to pretend to the world he was capable of having a girlfriend. It wasn't until a few years after high school that he realized how wrong this relationship was and how he screwed up Heidi's mental health at the same time. He was a complete narcissistic asshole. </span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He sighed.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘No. I'm... waiting for a friend.’ He replied, scanning the room with his gaze. ‘A male friend,’ he added.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘He's lucky.’ She stated. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Cartman looked questioningly at the young woman. She was clearly hitting on him. <em>Why?</em> He wasn’t particularly attractive and didn’t have the type of athletic body the girls at his university fantasized on. He couldn't even properly grow a beard on his chin and still had that childlike look plastered on his face.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘I promise you, I’m not worth it.’</span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">She shrugged before also turning to face the crowd of guests dancing in the middle of the floor, drinks in their hands.</span> <span class="s1">‘That's what's fun with masquerade balls. It's a one-night thing. You meet people you don't know nothing about. They may be the most pious people in the world, or the worst killers of this country, and you will never know. You just have to focus on their charisma and their words.</span> <span class="s1">All that matters is the moment you’re going to share tonight. Tomorrow, it won't matter anymore. It’s the night of all possibilities. I find it exciting.’ </span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Cartman pondered for a moment about the blonde's words. She was right. It was supposed to be a fun night. People came to put their lives aside, and hide who they really are, in order to indulge in pleasures for a few hours. Everyone here was aware of this. </span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">Then he saw him standing a few feet away from them, in the middle of the crowd.</span> <span class="s1">Slim. Tall. He still had this slightly frown when he was lost in thought. Cartman was sure he would soon get wrinkles between his eyebrows if he continued this bad habit. His curls were perfectly tamed. Now that he entered the working life, he could no longer afford to hide his hair under his horrible ushanka and had to make the difficult choice of taking care of his hair. He was wearing a black suit. Simple but effective. His pants perfectly underlined his thin legs. He had opted for a bow tie, which is funny because in high school he kept saying that he hated wearing them. He wore a mask cut the same way as in the movie adaptation of <em>The Phantom of The Opera</em>. His mouth and the left half of his face below his eye were visible. The rest was hidden. From afar, Eric couldn’t see the details of the patterns, but the eye area was dark,</span> <span class="s1">much of the mask was white, and borders were also dark. And their eyes met. </span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Looks like your friend’s here.’ She also curiously watched the figure of Kyle walking towards them. When he was close enough, she turned to Eric with a mischievous smile. She held out her hand to him. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘It was nice meeting you. I’m Florence Wilson.’ </span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">Eric looked down at the young woman's hand, then looked at her face, then took her hand in his and gently squeezed it. He could feel on him the burning looks of Florence and Kyle.</span> <span class="s1">They were waiting for that famous moment when he would betray himself, by dropping his name. The brown haired's lips parted for a thousandth of a second. He couldn't afford to appear hesitant for too long.</span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Mitchell Conner. The pleasure is mine.’</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"><em>Mitchell Conner ? What the fuck Cartman ?</em> She gave Kyle a polite smile before leaving them alone. The two men looked at each other. The atmosphere was strange. But not unpleasant. It was the redhead who first broke the silence.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Glad to see you came tonight, <em>Mitchell</em>.’ </span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">Eric's cheeks flushed slightly.</span> <span class="s1">He wondered for a moment if Kyle had seen right through him. But it was impossible. 'You didn’t know? My new job is to protect your ass every time you make an irrational decision. Like…’ Eric pretended to think about it thoroughly, looking at the ceiling. ‘I don’t know. Staying in New York instead of going home to your family.’</span> <span class="s1">That wasn’t a complaint. But more a teasing. </span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘I just needed to unravel the mystery that you are before I fly away.’ Kyle shrugged with an innocent look on his face. ‘Now that I know your first name, I can sleep soundly.’ </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Cartman - <em>or, Mitchell</em> - rolled his eyes. He couldn't help but think that at every second he could throw up the truth and horrify Kyle to the bone. But he took a sadistic pleasure in pushing Kyle a little more in this disgusting joke. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘A kiss wasn’t enough for you to sleep soundly?’ Cartman asked with a cocky voice. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">It was Kyle's cheeks turn to blush as he looked down at the lacquered moccasins he was wearing. ‘W-Well… That’s why I… I wanted to talk to you tonight?’ He tried, before looking up at him. He was unsure of his own words. He sighed ‘I'm sorry I kissed you. It was inappropriate.’ </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Before the redhead could sink into endless excuses, Cartman put his hand on his upper back and led him to the bar. He knew very well that it wasn’t Broflovski’s typical behavior. He also preferred to forget the incident. ‘Let’s get a drink.’ </span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">His dear enemy smiled for himself and followed him, dodging the crowd to stand behind the people who were also waiting to order. The brunet's eyes glanced at the list of drinks the bar offered and his lips pursed in concentration. It was written in white chalk on a huge blackboard that ran up and down the wall. People around him reeked of alcohol,</span> <span class="s1">which wasn’t surprising since the ball started three hours before his arrival. He thought the Negroni would be the wisest choice. Now, you have to know for your personal instance that a Negroni has a disgusting taste. But it was the Italian beverage of the manly man, and Cartman liked to think it was part of his character. Kyle had leaned slightly towards Eric's right shoulder to make himself heard more easily. </span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘I think I’ll go for…’ He started, squinting to read the list of the countless cocktails correctly. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘<em>A cuba libre.</em>’ They said in choir. Which made them both jump. But Cartman didn’t show it. He remained stoic. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"><em>Fuck. </em>He knew that was what Kyle constantly ordered when they went out to bars or festivals with the boys. It was also what he had ordered, the last time they had spent time together, at the summer festival. It was like a corner of his brain had purposely remembered it. Coke, sugar and rum, with green lemon. It was simple, but sweet. It corresponded perfectly to the young man. Cartman hated himself right now. And he felt Kyle's green eyes scrutinize his profile. But he couldn't see what emotion was going through his face. He ordered their two drinks, stepping between two people who had just finished talking to the waiters. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Hey. How did you know that? ’He asked with an incredulous smile as he grabbed the superhero’s elbow.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Cartman turned his head to look at him. He really didn't know how to justify himself. He thought deeply about how to get himself out of this web of lies, since he knew well how to do so since childhood. By chance, he didn’t need his skills.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Oh yeah, never mind. I forgot you enjoy stalking me, <em>weirdo</em>.’</span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">He let out a surprised laugh, pretending to be offended. His left arm was leaning on the bar and half of his body was turned toward the redhead.</span> <span class="s1">He was now in a delicate situation. Satisfied that his secret identity wasn’t discovered yet. But on the other hand, Kyle seemed convinced that the superhero had a sort of obsession with the him.</span> <span class="s1">He had no idea about the story behind Cartman's arrival in New York, or why he decided to save him that night. He fellt… bad?</span> <span class="s1">He felt like he was taking advantage of his naivety. It wasn’t something new in their relationship.</span> <span class="s1">He had took advantage of him <b>a lot </b>of times. But it had always been voluntary and conscious.</span> <span class="s1">Here, it was beyond his will. These three days had gone by so quickly. The only quiet moment when he could have tell him about his true identity, Kyle had kissed him.</span> <span class="s1">And in a panic, he fled. He knew it, he was a hundred percent sure that the day Kyle’ll find out, he would make him terribly regret it. It would be best to tell him as soon as possible, to avoid future major damages.</span> <span class="s1">But they got along so well right now. He lived four years without seeing his best friends and he missed them a lot. Seeing Kyle's face was like going back to normal after four years of a nightmare. Was it that bad if he kept the fraud going on for a few more hours?</span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He grabbed their two cocktails when the waiter was done and stepped out of the crowd of people thirsty for alcohol, Kyle following him behind.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">'I don’t see what you're talking about. I stalk you only for professional purposes Kyle.’ He said, handing him his Cuba Libre. They were now standing on the dance floor, in a corner of the room where they weren't too crowded with people. ‘Proof: I still don't know what you’re doing here.’ </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Kyle readily took his glass for a first sip. ‘Since David disappeared, it was a little inappropriate for me to ask the cabinet’s boss for my internship certificate.’ His tongue passed gently over his lips to recover the alcohol that escaped his lips. Eric had refrained himself from rolling his eyes. He wondered if all of Kyle's gestures were made for the sole purpose of trying to arouse him. He couldn't tell if it had any effect on him yet, but anyway he surprised himself contemplating his freckles sticking out of his mask while he spoke. ‘As a result, my father asked another friend from the Bloomberg family to “falsify” a proof of internship in their office. Still better than nothing. So I went to greet his friend before I joined you.’</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Welly, welly, well. I’m not the only one doing illegal things. That reassures me.’ He said, drinking his Negroni too. He tried to keep his reactions under control despite the extremely strong taste of the drink.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘You never told me why you were doing these illegal things?’ The redhead asked, dying to learn more about the masked stranger. The past few days had been so bizarre for him.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The brunet looked at him hesitantly. ‘You don’t want to know.’ And it was true.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">With a slightly more serious face, the trainee finished the glass content in one last sip before placing the empty glass on the tray of a waiter who passed by their side. ‘I deserve some explanation.’</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The brown haired chewed the inside of his cheek, playing gently with the liquid in his glass, spinning it around the ice cubes. ‘Okay. I will give you an answer. Then it will be my turn to ask a question. Alright? ’He ends up asking. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Kyle smirked at him without saying another word and rested his shoulder against the closest wall to them. He was just waiting for Mitchell to answer him. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘These guys threatened to kill my mother. I had to stop them.’ He said deadpan. It was straightforward and honest. He hoped Kyle wouldn't ask more questions. The latter's mouth formed into a silent "Oh", before slowly nodding his head as if to say that he understood. There was not much to add, really. It was private stuff.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Eric smiled again. ‘Why did you kiss me?’ He asked so as not to keep the awkward silence going. He couldn't believe he would say that to him once in his lifetime. He still couldn't believe it had happened at all. He immediately saw Kyle's embarrassment on his face. He shifted his weight uncomfortably before speaking.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Honestly… It was just spontaneous. I was happy to be alive… thanks to you.’</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The brunet let out a loud laugh. ‘Well, a <em>thank you</em> would have been fine too.’ </span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">‘Shut up.’ The intern rolled his eyes, shoving Mitchell on the shoulder. He contemplated the masked face of the superhero for a moment and Cartman wondered if there was anything wrong on his face.</span> <span class="s1">He was always taken aback when someone stared at him too closely. He always thought his face was too round, or too basic.</span> <span class="s1">He didn't deserve to be observed that way. ‘I fear your ego will become oversized if I tell you that you are actually attractive.’ </span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"><em>What the hell</em>. He almost choked on his own saliva. He hurried to bring his glass to his lips and finish his Negroni in one last sip. <em>Since when did they flirt together?</em> It was total nonsense. Cartman had to find a way out of this situation. Quickly. Obviously, Kyle had also been embarrassed by his own words. He took the empty glass from Mitchell's hands to place it on the tray of another waiter and grabbed the masked man by the wrist. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Let’s go dancing.’ </span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">The brown haired man was dragged in the middle of the ballroom foyer.</span> <span class="s1">The cocktail, made up of different liquors, was starting to throb in his head. He had no desire to make a fool of himself on the dance floor, however.</span> <span class="s1">He never was very good at dancing.</span> <span class="s1">Usually during parties he just sat on the couch and stuffed himself with crisps and pizzas. When Kyle stopped to turn and face him again, Eric leaned down to be heard despite the volume of the music. </span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Isn’t it weird? I mean… Two men dancing? ”He asked, looking around.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The redhead narrowed his eyes, not immediately understanding what he meant. ‘We’re in 2020. Nothing’s weird anymore.’ He scoffed. </span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">Fortunately for him, the lights were dim. Everyone around him had been drinking quite a bit. The chances to make a fool of himself because of his poor dancing skills were low. He was surprised to hear <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dst9gZkq1a8">Travis Scott's <em>Goosebumps</em></a> bounce loudly through the speakers. So he danced. He danced with Kyle Broflovski. It was so fucking weird. But in the same time so fucking relieving. He was no longer in debt. His mother was safe. He was returning to Colorado,</span> <span class="s1">to finally join all of his friends. Eric Theodore Cartman was definitely <em>back in the game.</em></span></p><p class="p7"> </p><hr/><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">It was only about an hour later, after dancing with other guests and having drank an excessive amount of cocktails and glasses of alcohol, that the two young men found themselves on the exterior balcony with many other people. They had taken the opportunity to smoke a cigarette together, leaning over the balustrade. The ballroom foyer was getting too hot and they had put their two jackets on the back of a chair, by their sides. The people around them were chatting and laughing loudly, while Kyle and Cartman silently stared at the New York buildings and a bridge not far from their street.</span> <span class="s1">The two had a smile on their lips. Smoke flew gently over their heads. Eric shivered slightly when he felt the wind caressing his shirt stained with sweat.</span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘After this summer, it's going to be so strange to go back to University. I just want to be done with it and start being independent.’ Kyle chewed on his lower lip before handing the cigarette to Eric, who gladly took it.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">'Yeah. I understand. I don’t really have this problem.’ He laughed. <em>He lied</em>. He didn't want to think about going back to uni. Especially in Denver. It was way too stressful. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘You're so lucky man.’ He got lost in his thoughts before catching up. ‘Well. I mean... Your situation isn’t fun. But... You’re living out your passion. You’re risking your life for it. It’s honorable.’</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The brunet was flattered. Even if he was unsure how to respond. He'd gotten to a point where the lights of the buildings were just strange, distant white shapes, where his heart was beating a little faster than normal, where his nostrils were obstructed by the smell of liquors, and where he wondered why Kyle was a particularly pleasant presence that evening? He was still lucid enough to be aware of the situation and his own words. He took in a puff of his cigarette into his lungs.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">'No doubts. Mom’s proud to see me sticking big thick blades in people's heads.’ He smiled bitterly as he puffed out the smoke.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">If he hadn't drunk this much, Kyle would have stopped snickering. ‘Mine wouldn't be very proud to see me hanging out with a masked avenger either.’ </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The two young men glanced at each other before laughing and looking back at the horizon.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The silence was too heavy not to be broken. He heard the redhead clear his throat. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘You've never dated a guy.’ That wasn’t a question. It was an observation. Eric was about to ask him why he was making such comment, but then Kyle said, as to precise his thought: ‘When you hesitated before dancing with me.’</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">As a matter of fact, Cartman had never done anything with a man. Well, maybe he had strange experimentations when he was a kid. But he wasn’t really aware of what sexuality and relationships meant at that time. So, it didn't count. He was afraid he was going to reveal his true identity because of this conversation that was making him uncomfortable. He felt the intern's shoulder lean lightly against his.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘I-… You're right. I only dated girls.’ He smashed the cigarette’s end against the balustrade, and kept doing so even when it was no longer needed, due to nervousness.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">A new silence settled. It was Cartman's turn to feel compelled to break it. As if to justify himself.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘No guy has ever been interested in me. I didn’t thought about it much.’ </span>
</p><p class="p9"> </p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">He saw in the corner of his eyes Kyle's face turn to his.</span> <span class="s1">They were so close to each other.</span> <span class="s1">He could feel the redhead's breathing against his cheek. They were outside, under the vast dark sky and yet the brunet felt trapped. His body got suddenly hot, his ears and neck were burning.</span> <span class="s1">He wondered if it wasn’t the side effects of alcohol that were playing tricks on him.</span> <span class="s1">Or if he just hated feeling scrutinized. But the intern didn’t look away. He continued to contemplate even the smallest features of his face. As if he were taking pleasure in pushing Cartman over the edge. This whole situation was Broflovski’s fault. Wrongdoings would be committed this evening and the redhead could only blame himself. As usual, right? Kyle’s biggest flaw is that he had never managed to keep himself from falling into Cartman’s little games. And they always ended up both getting harmed. <em>If only for once you could stick your nose out of my business, ginger. </em>The inevitable happened when he dared to turn his gaze to his former enemy. Kyle immediately seized the opportunity to seal their lips. But he didn’t move, at first. Their lips had just collided, and they could already smell the different liquors that had flowed through their two lips during the night. When he saw that Cartman wasn’t backing away, Kyle began to move his lips slowly. Cartman in turn entered the dance, but his movements were hesitant. He seemed not to want to do things wrongly. It wasn’t like he did this every day.</span> <span class="s1">They continued like this for a moment, the brunet eyelids shutting down. As they kissed, their lips moistened, rekindling the smell of alcohol and cigarettes.</span></p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">He felt like he was in one of his secret fantasies that nobody would ever know about and that would remain forever safe in his mind. The atmosphere was light and gentle.</span> <span class="s1">The moment so unreal.</span> <span class="s1">His brain was just screaming<em> whaaaaaaaaat?</em> but his lips wanted to moan <em>yeeeeeees</em>.</span> <span class="s1"><em>I have a once in a lifetime chance to turn Kyle Broflovski on and no one will ever know? I'm totally in.</em></span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">When Kyle pulled back a millimeter to leave a thin space between their lips, Cartman narrowed his eyelids, not understanding why he was stopping when it was such a good start. The redhead tilted his head slightly to the side.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘I can't tell if you’re enjoying it or not.’ He let out a laugh, but his voice showed genuine concern.</span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">‘It’s… just weird for me to kiss you with so many people around us.’ Kissing Kyle Broflovski was one thing. Kissing him in front of everyone was another one. And it was true that the people around them were just strangers.</span> <span class="s1">But it was still difficult for his body and his mind to process this idea. His old reflexes resurfaced, as if they were still in South Park.</span> <span class="s1">This whole double-identity thing was turning his brain upside down.</span> <span class="s1">He gave him a reassuring smile before putting his lips on his, this time trying to show him his mutual desire.</span> <span class="s1">He straightened up from the balustrade, placing his right hand on the young man's waist to draw him against his body.</span> <span class="s1">The kiss was smooth and sweet. When he felt the tip of Kyle's tongue touch his lips several times,</span> <span class="s1">he parted them to let it pass, and dared to touch it with his own. At first, the contact was strange. Like an electric shock that made him regain consciousness.</span> <span class="s1">But it only took Kyle running his hand over his neck to deepen the exchange to make Eric's brain melt down. Their masks brushed from time to time. He felt It slip on his face and gradually obstruct his vision but it didn't bother him all that much.</span> <span class="s1">Kyle's lips fitted perfectly his.</span> <span class="s1">They were soft and navigated with ease over his mouth. He never thought that a kiss between the both of them could went well. His fingers pressed the redhead’s waist and he felt the fabric humidity. He wondered if his skin was as nice and soft as his lips, and if he would discover new freckles that he had never seen before.</span></p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">He felt Kyle's smile before he ended the kiss a second time. His favorite enemy stepped back enough for him to see his face entirely this time. With the help of his index, the taller correctly replaced the mask over his eyes. He suddenly felt his free wrist being grabbed by the redhead, and he let himself be guided back inside the ballroom. Once inside, he didn’t stop walking. He continued his path between people, and he felt himself brushing people’s shoulders.</span> <span class="s1">Cartman’s lips rhythmically hummed <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZjAg6fK-BQ"><em>Reminder</em>'s</a> lyrics from The Weeknd, while feeling like the room was spinning all around him. This evening was surreal, like a dream he lived in front row. </span></p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">They entered a new room that Cartman had never set a foot in.</span> <span class="s1">When he stared at the floor, he noticed a black tiling and quickly guessed that they had ended up in the men's bathroom. Cartman had always made fun of the couples in nightclubs who took refuge in the toilets to have some make-out sessions.</span> <span class="s1">He found it so dirty. But the toilets of a five-star hotel were relatively different. He could see his own reflection on the over-cleaned floor. The walls were made of black marble, like the entrance hall. The taps were covered with a golden layer and the sinks were white marble.</span> <span class="s1">The cabins were huge and could have probably accommodate five people inside. He wondered how many wealthy millionaires had come here during the evening to snort coke rails. The smell was not as terrible as the one you could smell in the toilets of a public space. Indeed, it smelled like lemon cleaner. But <em>whatever.</em> Their lips met up again, crashing against each other in a collision of desire. He hit his gum because of their fervor but he didn't even flinch. The excitement was an effective anesthetic. When he entered the men’s bathroom he hadn't seen anyone other than them. But he hadn't even bothered to confirm his assumption. One thing was enthralling his thoughts. </span></p><p class="p9"> </p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">They kiss firmly. His entire arm wrapped around Kyle's body across his waist and clutched their two torsos together.</span> <span class="s1">He could feel the young man's heart beating sharply against his skin. His face was leaning to the right, then to the left, again and again.</span> <span class="s1">He had loosen up so much that his movements became awkward, his lips sliding on the corner of his partner's. Both of the redhead’s hands grabbed his face to keep it straight, keeping it from moving too much.</span> <span class="s1">But it was all new to Eric: he was losing control over his body. A small chuckle escaped his lips and he felt Kyle's legs guide him to the left, slowly. Little by little, his feet retreated and his back bumped against the door of a bathroom stall, without hurting him.</span> <span class="s1">The way the two arms framed Eric's head as he landed against the door had a way of arousing the superhero. And the way Kyle was so good at guiding him and taking the dominant role. That’s what he’s always loved about him.</span> <span class="s1">He was the only one who stood up to him.</span> <span class="s1">The only one who dared to take the reins and question Cartman’s authority. The only one who managed to curb his wacky plans.</span> <span class="s1">He had only one desire: to push him again, again, and again over the edge. To manipulate Kyle into doing whatever thing that pleased Cartman, and force him to pour all of his emotions, his rage, his frustration, his desire, onto the brunet.</span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘If you’re such a good kisser in public, let’s see how you’re at ease when nobody’s watching us.’ He murmured against Cartman’s fleshy lips and it managed to make is dick twitch.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He felt their groin brushing repeatedly, but the thick fabric of their pants prevented him from satisfying his need for friction. Cartman decided he needed <em>more</em>. He shamelessly grabbed Kyle's hips against his. He wanted him to know he had managed to provoke him an erection. It seemed the message was well received when he felt the redhead's teeth directly bite his lower lip. Their sighs were beginning to be heard. Maybe too much.</span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">Kyle's right hand lowered to open the door and he urged the taller to back away and bring them in.</span> <span class="s1">No sooner had they set foot inside than he hurriedly locked it behind them.</span> <span class="s1">How could he keep pretending when he was feeling Kyle's warm hands on parts of his body that he would never have ever suspected being touched by the hands of his favorite enemy?</span> <span class="s1">He was playing with fire.</span> <span class="s1">He knew he would end up burned. But he was begging for this irresistible suffering. The room was silent. Only their jerky breaths and the sounds of their lips smacking against each other could be heard.</span> <span class="s1">Once again, Kyle tackled Eric against one of the toilet cabin’s walls and their groin were desperately looking for the slightest touch against one another.</span> <span class="s1">At first, it was weird to feel another man's hard-on against his. It was a whole new experience.</span> <span class="s1">But the strangeness was soon erased behind the pleasure he got from the idea of turning his childhood enemy on.</span> <span class="s1">It was a whole new way of gaining control over him, and even a better one than all of his past sadistic plans put together. </span></p><p class="p4"><span class="s1">He felt the redhead's lips withdraw to land against his earlobe. Cartman had kept his eyes closed and let all of his other senses ignite:</span> <span class="s1">his hearing, his touch, his taste, his smell. He was completely intoxicated. </span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Just tell me if you want me to stop.’ The brunet’s back shivered when he felt his warm breath on the skin of his neck. He felt like the whole room around him was on fire. His body itself was on fire.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘I- I’ll never tell you to stop Kyle.’ </span>
</p><p class="p4"><span class="s1"><em>Fuck</em>. He didn’t know if he said it with his normal voice. He was so pleased by Kyle’s touches. And he was so drunk. So comfortable in this atmosphere.</span> <span class="s1">Fortunately, Kyle didn’t seemed to notice. His fingers had travelled under the waistband of Cartman's pants as he left exquisite kisses on his neck. His legs were going to drop him from one moment to another. Only his back against the wall had helped him to maintain his posture and he didn’t know if he would be longer able to stand in front of him. </span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">This part of the night went apace. It was unclear how their actions articulated in sequences. But right now, he had bothered to enjoy every kiss, every caress, every whisper, and every moan. One minute later, his pants were down to his knees. His broad thighs felt the air against their skin. He had allowed himself to run his hands over the hot back of the redhead to caress his skin using all his fingers. Kyle had opened a few buttons on the top of the brunet's shirt and his nose was buried in his neck, then in his chest, continuing to drop sloppy kisses on his skin. Eric contracted his muscles so as not to feel his legs trembling. <em>Fuck. </em>How this man could make him feel so much feelings at the same time was mystery.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He let out a loud moan when one of the young man's hands pressed his crotch. He had never had sex with a man, but right now, he just wanted to feel their bodies tangling and rubbing. He craved for his skin to touch his own. He would never get tired of this feeling. Eric's hand came to rest on his partner's pants so that he could properly grab his ass. The pleasure was only short-lived as Kyle's body escaped from his grip. He frowned when he opened his eyes and saw that Kyle also had disappeared from his field of vision. He was on his knees facing Cartman’s hips. The latter had a perfect view of his red hair and the back of his own head banged against the wall as he looked up at the ceiling. The man was about to kill him.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">His boxers slipped on his skin and the wait was unbearable. His left hand grabbed the curls of the kneeling man and he thought he should have run his hand through his hair earlier. They were soft and glided pleasantly between his fingers. He had a sudden fantasy of pulling them forcefully in order to stick his teeth into his enemy's neck but quickly made the vision disappear when Kyle's wet tongue caressed his glans.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘FUCK’ he growled, immediately closing his mouth to avoid being heard by any guest. When his tongue went around his most sensitive part, he held his breath and mobilized all his leg muscles so as not to see his body slide towards the ground. His grip grew stronger on his enemy’s hair, unwittingly. But he couldn’t do otherwise. He was driving him crazy. He soon opened his eyes to observe the scene and engrave it on his mind. He was sure of one thing: he had never seen anything so satisfying in his life. When their eyes met and he saw Kyle's innocent face while kissing the tip of his cock, he could have sworn he could cum now, right away. But he absolutely didn't want to shorten his pleasure. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Stop t-teasing. You’re a torturer, I swear.’ He sighed and closed his eyes again, feeling the redhead's wicked laugh against his skin.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He was no longer able to remain discreet when he felt the length of his dick enter his mouth. The heat and humidity of the cavity made his veins pulsate against it. His excitation was painful to him, and the back and forth movements of his partner's mouth were his remedy. The hand in his hair guided his movements to indicate the rhythm he desired. But it was useless. He couldn't longer hold back the orgasm that was fast approaching. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He could pretend he was able to kill people without any second thought. He could pretend to like strong alcohols. He could pretend his name wasn’t Eric. But he could never pretend he didn’t like the way Kyle Broflovski's lips had such effect on his soul.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">After all, he was only a man who hadn’t known a physical relationship for four years and whose sexual life was punctuated only by the good will of his right hand. When he came into Kyle's mouth, he felt like his whole world was falling apart. But again, he didn’t mind.</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Chaos was the greatest of all places. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p11"> </p><p class="p11"> </p><p class="p11">
  <span class="s1"><em>Outside the Hotel</em>. 1:47am </span>
</p><p class="p12"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t know if he’ll be able to remember every detail of the evening. But when he left the entrance hall, despite his desire to be stoic, he staggered a little. His arm held Kyle by his shoulders. The latter had insisted on having a few drinks before going home. And Eric needed to drown away his future regrets. He didn’t have the will to face them right now. He was a coward. But he was Cartman. So, was it really surprising?</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">The Uber he had requested for his one-night stand had arrived, and he raised one arm to signal the driver to stop. The last memories he had of that night were Kyle looking at him with bright eyes and a smile that invaded his face. And some words they exchanged. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘Maybe one day we’ll see each other again <em>Conner</em>.’</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Something in his heart squeezed, but Cartman wiped away the feeling that was emerging. Alcohol was his best friend to reduce the strength of his emotions.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">‘I have no doubts, Broflovski.’ But he hadn't dared to look him in the eye when he said those words.</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">His arm released his shoulders. They hadn't kissed to say goodbye to each other. He just remembered the black silhouette of the redhead walking away toward the car, like a dream that would immediately escape when he'll wake up. He was drunk. But he knew <em>how much</em> he fucked up tonight. Tonight, he had committed the worst felony against him. And the reprisal was going to be huge. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">His stomach wanted him to shout his true identity. But even when Kyle's back was turned, he couldn't. Even when he got into the car, he couldn't find the strength. And when the car was gone in the dark street, it was too late. </span>
</p><p class="p13"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">A lump had formed in his throat. Again, he swallowed and swept the threatening anguish away. His own Uber arrived, he couldn’t say how long after. When he opened the door and settled in the middle of the rear seats, the heat of the car pleasantly enveloped his body. His right hand went on the back of his head to undo his mask and finally let his skin face breathe. His brain had stopped working. Why torturing himself rehashing the events of the last hours? After all, he had always been a coward. It took him a moment to recognize that <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCnQGXouAPo">the music played on the radio</a> was sung in a foreign language. Probably French. He had no fucking idea what the singer was saying. But his distant high school French lessons allowed him to catch a few words. </span>
</p><p class="p14"> </p><p class="p14">
  <span class="s1">Ce que tu touches tu le détruis</span>
</p><p class="p14">
  <span class="s1">Mon corps se couche sur ton ennui</span>
</p><p class="p14">
  <span class="s1">J'ai fait l'impasse sur les mots doux</span>
</p><p class="p14">
  <span class="s1">Fait pas semblant car je le sais</span>
</p><p class="p14">
  <span class="s1">Tu ne m'aimes que parce que je te hais</span>
</p><p class="p14">
  <span class="s1">Mais c'est pas grave, tant pis </span>
</p><p class="p14">
  <span class="s1">J'prendrai un taxi</span>
</p><p class="p14"> </p><p class="p14"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ABOUT MUSIC AND SEX-<br/>I listened to some Travis Scott musics all weekend, I just HAD TO put one of his songs in this chapter. Sorry. It was also my first time ever writing smut. I hope it wasn't too weird. I'm experiencing, like Cartman. The french lyrics are from Les Filles Désir by Vendredi Sur Mer. If I had to traduce it, it would go something like this :</p><p>"You destroy everything you touch and my body's lying on your boredom. I choose not to tell you the sweet words. Don't pretend because I know : You love me only because I hate you. But it doesn't matter. It's too bad but I'll take the cab." Obviously, it's waaaaay more better written in the original song. Basically it talks about two people having an intimate and short relationship, but they're too proud to confess their love to each other. And it doesn't matter because there are hundreds of other people they can fall in love with. And even if they fantasized a lot about pursuing their relationship, they won't do it because they believe they'll be happier with someone else. Yeah, how depressing. Anyway, it reminded me of Kyle and Cartman.</p><p>So, you can guess that in the next story, Cartman will have to decide about telling the truth to Kyle. And if he does so, you might ask yourselves how Kyle will react ? </p><p>I'M TAKING BETS </p><p>(hint: kyle's going to fuck him up so much)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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